Wow, I Can Get Sexual Too
by valiumknights
Summary: This woman was the reason I drive an extra 45 minuets to come to work instead of just collecting on unemployment, and today's the day I'm gonna make her mine... COLT CABANA / OC
1. TOTAL SLEEZEBAG

Colt Cabana is the funniest man alive , _deal with it._  
**if i owned cabanaramma i wouldn't be sitting hurr **.  
oh and, say anything own the title

* * *

1:35... 1:36... 1:37...

I never thought I would be back here, in fucking school. I hated school, so why would I pick a profession where I would need to be cooped up in one 5 hours a fucking day. Well, I guess this wasn't the profession I picked; it's more like the profession I picked to get me to my real profession. Pro Wrestling.

I guess it's not a bad gig, I can sleep at recess, use all their shit to make gimmicks, scam free coffee and food to take back to the apartment to share with punk n' ace. I really shouldn't complain, people would probably kill to get this job. At least I'm not as bad as punk, sitting in that chemical lab downtown, probably asleep at his desk. He could die, or kill somebody else, but it's all for the love of Wrestling.

1:40. Finally.

Ms. Vaughn. Amazing coincidence that she has the same last name as that teacher from that Adam Sandler movie; Billy Madison (And yes, she is hot. And I may want to touch her hiney in the near future.)

She always walks into the room at 1:40, because the asshole teacher she's walking with this term is an asshole, if I didn't mention it, and makes her clean the room after every class. Asshole. Those hands shouldn't be used for cleaning, they should be used for touching my... I'll stop there.

Let me describe her to you; this woman, good god. She has this long browny blonde hair, and these big brown eyes and these Angelina Jolie lips, and her body. Wow. She's a native Chicago-ian, and the whole reason she's working here is to earn enough money to become a social worker.

How could I possibly know all this without ever talking to her you ask? Well, I've become very fond of the receptionist here, Edna. She'll give me a little look-see at some of the personnel files, or when I call up for a sick day she'll give it to me no questions asked, and sometimes she brings me casserole. And all I have to do is fling her a few ROH tickets every now and then, and seeing as she's 83 years old and I can still hear her cussing over the rest of the audience, I'm very happy to do so.

This woman was the reason I drove an extra 15 minutes to come to this school instead of the one a block away from the apartment where he lived. This woman was the reason I didn't tell the principal to suck his dick and the kids to shut the hell up, and start collecting on unemployment.

And today was the day. Today was the day I am going to talk to her for the first time.

_Hey, I'm Colt. Colt? Scott? Scott. I've been watching you... way to sound like a fucking stalker._

She sat down at the table near the window in the teachers' lounge, drinking a cup of coffee like she always did.

I got up, pretending to look outside at the kids playing on the jungle gym, getting closer and closer to the table.

"Hey, how-"

"Scott! Ready to take my class to the art room?"

_Yes Mr. Asshole, I'm ready to take your class for you so you can go a smoke in your car._

"Yes Sir, Mr Jones." I smiled at him. Student teachers weren't even supposed to take classes, but what the fuck am I gonna say?

I pretend I hadn't said a word and waited, trying to regain composure.

"Hi." I looked down at her, she was smiling up at me with her glasses sitting on the end of her nose.

"Uh. H-Hey." I grinned at her, shoving my hands in my pockets, trying to look as manly and un-boy like as possible.

"You wanna sit?"

_Fuck Yes._

I took a seat in front of her, and she crossed her arms on the table, smiling at me.

"Scott." I smiled; at least I got my name right.

"Brooke." She smiled; I smiled back as if I didn't already know her name.

Silence. "So, how's stuff?" I said. It sounded better in my head I swear to god.

She laughed and shrugged, "Alright I guess, sick of working for Jones though."

"Total sleazebag." I replied as if reflex action.

"Mmmhmm. Thinks using a bottle of Hugo Boss'll cover up that smoke stench."

I laughed, she was so much cuter close up.

"So, who are you working for?" She asked.

"Mrs. Clary." She cringed as I said it.

"You know I hear Mr. Clary is having some fun in the supplies room with Mrs. Joyce."

I turned around to look at the table of three, Mrs. Clary was grading papers as the elderly Mr. Clary and the half-his-age Mrs. Joyce eye fucked the hell out of each other. "That's filthy."

She laughed and nodded.

"So."

"So."

This was awkward.

"So, you want to be a social worker?"

"How did you know that?"

_Oh Shit._

"Uhh-"

"Edna scammin' you too?"

"Yeah. For tickets."

"Mmm. I tape The golden girls for her every Sunday."

"Who's file did you read?" I asked, curious.

"Reading files? I just get Monday's off, you've been reading my file!?" She whispered loudly, if you get my drift, she was pissed. I paniced, sitting back preparing to run as fast as I could.

"I'm kidding. There was this guy who worked here a few months back, I pretty much stalked him"

"Ohhh." I said, of course it was another dude you douchebag.

"Ms Vaughn, time to go!" Mr Asshloe Jones yelled.  
"Great. Time to go grade essay papers."

I nodded, regretting the whole situation.

She stood up and picked up a few papers she had on the table.

"If it makes you feel any better-" She whispered as she leant over to me.

"I looked at your File too, Scott Colton."


	2. OH, GRANDPA!

terrible chapter, really . just filler, fo' real .  
also: not reviewing /equals/ rude.

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"What up, bana?" I walked into that stinky, hideous, mess of an apartment and felt completely different. Ace stood there, throwing clothes into an overnight bag not even looking at the goofy grin on my face.

Punk walked out of the bathroom, zipping up his fly and stared at me for several minutes.  
"Why are you smiling like a douchebag?"

Ace then stopped packing. Looking up at my face.  
"Don't tell me-" I cut him off, raising my fists in the air  
"I am the biggest chick magnet on the earth!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Punk laughed and shook his head at me.  
"You're an idiot, Bana. But good job with your teacher chick."

"Teacher chick?" Ace asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"A student teacher at my school, the hottest, cutest, funniest woman I have ever seen, and she totally thinks' I'm hot." I grinned, doing my trademark strut to the fridge, grabbing a mountain dew.

Punk laughed and slapped my back, "Whatever you want to believe."  
"So, when do we get to meet her?" Ace asked, zipping up his bag.

Well known tradition in the group we rolled with. If there was a girl you were into, the whole crew would have to meet her before you could start a relationship, coz if they didn't like her there would be no relationship.

"Well. I haven't exactly asked her out yet-"  
"The truth is revealed!" Punk smiled, picking up his own overnight bag.

"I see her again on Monday and I reckon I'll ask her then. I just needed a little time to break the ice, is all." I smiled.

"How long have you been working with her?" Ace asked  
I rolled my eyes, "You're an old ass."

"I still know how to get the ladies." Ace said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down  
"Ew, grandpa!" Punk yelled

"Yeah, yeah. Hurry up and get in the car, we gotta be at the IWA Show in an hour."


	3. A STRIPPER? IT'S POSSIBLE

look: it's really lovely that so many of you have put this on story alert, and even a few have favorite-ed this story. but what's the point of me posting it if you're not gonna review giving me feedback?

not complaining just bummed.

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9:35. I hadn't seen her yet. Sure, This usually wouldn't worry me but it was fucking Thursday. I wish I never said anything to Punk and Ace and Joe and shit, they'll never let me live this down. I totally thought she liked me, but she's been avoiding me for so long. Is this that emo thing that punks always talking about?

I'd been sent down to find some jumbo crayons for the kids in art, and I was almost at the supply closet when I heard something.

"God damn, mother fuck-"  
"You know, you really shouldn't curse like that. There could be kids around."

The shock on her face was priceless.  
"Colton, how's it going?" She smiled that gorgeous smile and continued grappling for the box of lead pencils on the top shelf. It was then I noticed how tiny she was. 5'2, maybe 5'3 if she was lucky. And fragile looking.

But she had a great rack.  
Jesus Scott, get your mind off the tits.

"Nothing much, haven't seen you around." I reached up, grabbing the box and giving it to her.  
"Thank you. And yeah, I got the chicken pox from one of the kids and was off all weekend and most of this week." She turned around and I realized how small the art supply closet really was, I had my back against the shelves and she did too, on the opposite wall of course. But we were really close.

"Cool. I mean, not cool. Chicken pox sucks but, I thought uh-"  
"You thought what?" A smile came to her face as she crossed her arms over her chesssstttt. Mind off the boobs, bana.

I grabbed a box of jumbo crayons and laughed a little.  
"I thought you were avoiding me or something." I opened the box and closed them again, avoiding her eyes.

"Aw, Scott." She smiled, with this look in her eyes, pinching my cheek like I was a little kid.  
"Hey short stuff, watch yourself." I said, swatting her arm away, although not really wanting to hit her.

"How could you think I was avoiding you, Scotty." She smiled. I'm not gonna lie about it, I hate it when people call me Scotty. The last time I was called Scotty was when I met Punk and right after he said it I hip-tossed him. But when she said it, it sounded good. It was cute.

"So uh, you doing anything tomorrow night?" I couldn't help it, she was just too darn adorable and the room was so small I could smell whatever kind of shampoo she used, it smelt like fruit and I liked it.

"Why's that, Colton? You asking me out or something?" She smiled, playing with the box in her hands. I laughed, crossing my arms. Some chick at some bar said I looked good when I did that, and I was really trying.

"Depends If you'd say yes or not." I smiled. She laughed, I had her in the corner now, litterally and figurativley. She pushed her hands into her pockets and smiled, "Yeah."

"Well, there's a show tomorrow night and I wanna take you." I smiled, She raised an eyebrow and smiled. "A show? what are you a stripper Colton?" I laughed and opened the door to leave.

"Only if you want me to be."


	4. THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT

i'm so sorry it's been so long, but school is _over_.  
i guess i kinda forgot it was here, megalolz.

* * *

"Dude. What are you doing out here?" Samoa Joe asked, shoving his hands into his pockets seeing one of his best friends sitting on his car in the parking lot. Colt looked up at the huge Samoan with a huge grin on his face.

"She's coming to the show." He smiled proudly. Joe laughed and sat down next to him, slapping his shoulder. "You're teacher chick huh?" Joe asked. No doubt all of Colt's friends had heard all about her and by now everyone knew that she would be there, safe to say they were all very very curious.

"Brooke, yeah." He smiled, standing up as he saw a car drive by that she had described to him over the phone. It pulled into park and he grinned, she was here to see him, and just him.

"Sup Colton." She grinned getting out of the car. Cabana smiled even wider as he walked over to her. She looked so good outside of school, in her jeans and her white t-shirt and her hair up and her cute little smile. "Nothin much, Vaughn." He smiled, throwing an arm around her waist as if he had done it a million times.

"Ready for some good times?" Colt smiled at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "Depends on what you mean by that, weirdo." She said, before punching him in the stomach softly. He faked hurt and cried out to Joe, who was now standing up.

"Man, she's a tough one." Joe smiled as they walked over to him. Brooke couldn't lie, she was intimidated by the huge samoan standing in front of them with his arms crossed, looking straight at her. Hell, she was a little intimidated by Colt at first, and then realised that he was probably the sweetest man on the planet.

"Don't be afraid of this douchebag either, he's like a big teddy bear." Cabana smiled, punching Joe in the arm before pushing Brooke forward a little bit so greet him. "Hey Brooke, I'm Joe. I've heard alot about you." Joe smiled sweetly at her, letting his arms drop to his sides. He stuck out a hand to him and she shook it softly and he sent her this huge smile that almost made her heart melt.

"Joe's not doing anything tonight, so you and him can hang out in the bar area if you want. Make sure his fat ass doesn't get you drunk though." Brooke's mouth dropped and she grabbed Joe's arm and frowned at Colt. "Don't be mean to Joe, he's just a teddy bear, remember?" She smiled Colt's way and he almost died. Joe grinned and let her hold onto his arm, even if it was just a rib. "I like this one, Cabana." Colt shook his head as Brooke and Joe walked ahead, already talking and laughing like old friends. "Yeah, me too..."

"...Here he comes." Joe said, clapping his hands above his head as Colt's music began to play. Brooke began to laugh, Colt had warned her that it was somewhat 'out there' but seeing him strut to the wrestling ring to copacabana by Barry Mannilow? Outragous.

"Who's that?" Brooke asked, pointing at the heavily tattooed and angry looking blonde man walking toward the ring. "Ah, That's punk. Cabana's best friend, so don't worry you're pretty little head about it." Joe smiled at her as she watched the match like her life depended on it. "Oh yeah, /See-Emm punk/! Colt talks about you and him all the time!" She smiled as she watched the lock up, pushing each other around. Sure she was worried, but he had told her all about it. How he was gonna get thrown out of the ring, and how punk was gonna kick him in the head, and how the crowd was gonna love it, and how _he_ was gonna love it.

Joe smiled as Brooke got so into it, screaming and booing like any fan would. It was adorable, how she watched every move he made like it was all real.

"Colt told you it was all a-"  
"A work? Yeah, of course." She smiled at Joe as he sat there stunned.

He shook his head as if shaking off a daze and laughed a little. "A work? Have you ever seen wrestling before?" Joe asked as she shook her head sweetly. Joe laughed, "And Colt taught you all the lingo-" She grinned as she realised she'd been talking like a wrestling vet when really this was her first show.

She laughed and shrugged, "Yeah sorry, He just get's so exicited about it." He really did. He was so excited when she said she would come see a show that she couldn't help but get excitied too, he was just too cute. "Nah, it's cool. Trust me, theres nothing more annoying that a girl who thinks she knows the biz better than you do." Brooke smiled. She could really get used to hanging around this kind of place. I mean it was small and rowdy, and the whole wrestling ring set up next to a bar just spelled trouble but it was kind of different, and awesome.

"One! Two! Three!" The crowd chanted as the ref's hand smacked the mat. The crowd errupted in a chorus of boo's as Punk raised his hands above his head with this cocky dememnour. Brooke booed loudly and punk caught her eyes for a second, before throwing a nod Joe's way in some manly greeting.

"Come on, they'll be out soon and I know 'bana will be dying to know what you thought." Brooke nodded at Joe as he stood, following his lead. "So-" Joe asked "What did you think?"

"Yeah, what did you think?" Colt said, coming up behind the pair witha huge smile on his face and a hand on Brooke's back. "Eh, you were all right. Punk's a bit of a no sell though." Joe sighed with a less than impressed look. Sure it was a joke, but that guys a great actor.

"I'm gonna no sell your mother giving birth to you!" Punk yelled at Joe, pointing a finger in his face coming from where Colt did. "Whatever clown, you're still not getting my title." Joe laughed at the very serious young man. "Darn it." Punk mumbled, crossing his arms.

"Vaugn, this is punker. Call him punker." Cabana smiled, nodding toward the bleach blonde tattoo covered man. Punk held out his hand a met her with a cheezy grin. "How'd you like the show?" He asked as she shook her hand. She nodded, "Pretty darn entertaining."


End file.
